She is a Force of Nature
by GillyTweed
Summary: Clarke is force of nature, and she is never letting Lexa go.


Pairing: Clexa

Rating: Children be wary (K+)

Notes: mentions of character injury, although not explicitly detailed.

Lexa gasped in agony as her limbs were jostled. Wounds stretched and bled as she was quickly carried into a tent. The battle had been won, but at great cost. Cost to herself. She was set on a long wood table, a folded jacket placed under her head as countless hands stripped her of dented armour and slashed leathers. Despite their intended carefulness, each touch sent pain lancing through her veins like fire. Each scream she wished she could unleash was held in, only escaping in quiet groans and swallowed whimpers. Soon the hands disappeared one by one, leaving her almost bare in bindings and cotton pants, both stained heavily with blood. Countless voices murmured around her, creating a buzz that turned into a pounding ache between her temples. She didn't open her eyes for fear of what she would see, as well as for fear of passing out. The buzzing grew as the voices did until a strong commanding voice cut through the vicious noise.

"You three, out. There are too many people in here. Nyco, I'll need your help. Send someone for clean clothes, a lot of water, needle and thread, and several heated daggers. We need to close the wounds that are bleeding the most heavily before we can think about anything else."

Clarke. She was here. A surge of panic shivered through her, seizing her muscles and causing agony to rip through her once again. She could feel her back arching slightly and hands trying to hold her down as her muscles contracted without her consent. She didn't want Clarke seeing her like this. Weak, vulnerable, everything the Commander was not.

The insistent spasming of her muscles slowly stopped as she forced herself to relax. The hands holding her down were slowly removed. One returned quickly gently resting on her forehead.

"Lex, can you hear me?"

Clarke's gentle voice soothed her. Tilting her head, she tried to acknowledge the other girl with a nod. Opening her eyes seemed like a herculean feat, but she tried anyway. Only succeeding in fluttering her eye lids just enough to make out a blurry image of the blonde's worried face. Clarke's hand moved to stroke her hair, most likely in an attempt to keep her calm. The gesture was kind, but it only heightened her anxiety as it reminded her of their position. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed again.

"Alright, I'm going to have to lift you so you can drink this."

A quiet sloshing sound was right in front of her face.

"It's an anesthetic that should hopefully make this less unpleasant."

She didn't want to take it but found herself nodding anyway. She hated not being in control of herself. With having given up so much for the good of her people, having control over herself and her own actions was the only thing she could truly claim as hers. Clarke was the only one who seemed to erode that control.

Like a meteor she had crashed to earth, shaking Lexa's already shaky sense of stability, and over time these emotionally shaking occurrence's would come more frequently. She rained fire from the sky, destroyed a mountain and brought the most powerful woman on earth to her knees.

Clarke Kom Skykru was a force of nature, more powerful than anyone, than Lexa could comprehend, and she shook the Commander to her core.

Clarke was like the ocean, calm and soothing on a clear day, but once turmoil surfaced, those calm waves would become a storm, capable of capsizing a boat at any moment. She was like a steady river, constant yet unpredictable, eroding Lexa's defences with sure, swift currents that sent the brunette reeling. She ensured both safety and destruction, like a strong snowfall; built into a shelter, ice could shield like no other, but left exposed the biting cold sinks into one's bones, lulling the mind on toward death. She warmed and burned like fire, and cooled yet bit like wind. Clarke was a force of nature, stronger than Lexa could ever comprehend, trapping her in her grip.

She was pulled from her thoughts as gentle hands, soft and cool like laying on spring grass, lifted her up into a sitting position. Lexa's head slumped forward, too tired to keep it upright. Her head was lifted once more by another, to lean it back to lay on Clarkes shoulder. The vial of anesthesia was brought to her lips, and as she drank one last thought stumbled through her mind before she succumbed to darkness.

Clarke was a force of nature, and she was never letting Lexa go.


End file.
